


Play Fetch

by Agent_24



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_24/pseuds/Agent_24
Summary: After surviving the annihilation of his pack, newly turned werewolf Jesse McCree becomes involved in a dangerous game of catch and release with the hunter that spared his life.





	Play Fetch

Describing it as a game of cat and mouse was one part accurate and two parts ironic.

The group of hunters that arrived during harvest was preposterously small. An army of six, rumors had said, just a few supposedly well trained humans that should still easily be picked off if enough wolves cooperated. There was always an influx of shifters when a new guild showed up, and the presence of the notorious _Overseers_ brought the biggest crop of bites New Mexico had seen in decades. Newly made ‘pups’ scuffled to form any kind of hierarchy, human instincts and power cravings lingering even in their new bodies. Elder wolves got shot to the bottom as bigger, badder, more arrogant humans were changed, and at the top always sat the same wolf, an undefeated veteran with a scar over his eye.

Deadlock turned Jesse himself. His memory of the raid on his tiny village was vague, though he recalled young men and women being dragged into the woods, screaming and wounded and just starting to twitch, while the remainder of their families were left behind in mangled heaps.

There had been “recruitment”, training, cautious planning, good timing. Even with the hunters picking them off slowly, their numbers had remained strong. It was all very thoughtfully done, everything laid out and carefully plotted: full moon, dead of night, near thirty wolves.

The Overseers had decimated them by sunrise.

Bloodied and beaten under pinkening skies, ears ringing with whimpers and howls and gunshots, Jesse found himself pinned underneath a thick leather boot with a shotgun pointed at his head. Reyes loomed over him, passed judgment, and turned him loose.

That was the start of their game. Jesse didn’t feel it was fair that Reyes never really explained the rules.

* * *

“Well look at you,” Reyes hummed, soft, low in his throat. The hairs on the back of Jesse’s neck stood on end.

A wolf crossing a hunter once usually meant one of three things: the wolf was killed, the hunter was killed, or the hunter was turned. Crossing a hunter twice was usually some combination of luck and misfortune; twice meant the wolf had survived the first time, which in turn meant the hunter had a reason to look for them. Crossing a hunter for a third time was just unheard of. Jesse wasn’t sure if he should count this as the second or third time. Last time, Reyes had missed an easy shot.

“Long time no see,” Jesse drawled with an easy wave, faux confident, wholly terrified.

Reyes looked pleased. “Three years,” he said. He took a step, watched amused as Jesse matched it, and they slowly began circling each other. Then, “You got bigger.”

“Don’t think I was meant to get this big, truthfully,” Jesse admitted, chuckling, humorless. “My ma and pa were real short, if I’m recallin’ right. It’s all kinda hazy.”

“Didn’t think you’d last long enough to grow this big,” Reyes rumbled. His teeth were too straight, Jesse thought, too pearly white. Reyes had money.

“Me neither.” Leaves crackled under Jesse’s padded feet softly, claws settling into the dirt underneath. It kind of hurt, being half shifted like this, calves bulging out of his pants and his feet awkwardly arched between human heels and paws. “Didn’t think I’d make it past that sunrise.”

There was a question in the statement, and Reyes answered it with another. “What was a kid like you doing, running Deadlock’s front line?”

Jesse clicked his tongue softly. A hunter, taking pity on a young pup? Ridiculous. “Ain’t you ever played chess?” he asked. “Smart player ain’t gonna send out any good pieces first. That’s what pawns are for.”

Reyes grinned, flashed his teeth. “Seems like you’d have to be a damn fool to confuse a knight with a pawn, or Deadlock for a chess player.”  

“You callin’ me a knight?” Jesse asked.

“I saw you on the battlefield.”

 _“Sweet_ talker,” Jesse exclaimed, hand over his heart.  

He stammered a yelp when Reyes moved, blade cutting deep into the tree he’d stepped in front of. Jesse’s tuck and roll was all that saved him from beheading. He marveled, and not for the first time, that a human was capable of moving so quickly. In any case, Reyes was toying again. _A machete,_ Jesse’s brain supplied, only for him to correct himself a moment later: _cutlass_. A blade, when he could see the glint of a revolver under Reyes’ coat when he moved, when there was a shotgun strapped to the hunter’s back. He would’ve scoffed if he had the time. _Pah, ridiculous._

His shoulders bulked, fur sprouting and peeking through his clothes, new body mass tearing through his shirt (damn, he’d liked that one, _damn_ ). Reyes took his time, wriggling the blade free before he lunged again, grinning wide and flashing those pearly teeth.

In the end, Reyes had him pinned again, and Reyes let him go. Jesse managed two nasty gashes against the hunter’s cheek. Reyes’ blood smelled so sweet it almost made him sick.

* * *

“Five times now, huh?” the old wolf rumbled.

Jesse considered. “Six,” he said decidedly, to sound impressive.

The wolf snorted; moonlight faintly illuminated old, wrinkly features and thinning gray hair.  Jesse recognized him from a smaller pack Deadlock had wiped out, and the only reason they hadn’t killed each other was out of loneliness. “He’s playing with you, fool,” the wolf said.

“I know that,” Jesse snapped, irritable. “I know that. I told you, it ain’t like I’m escapin’. He brings me down and lets me loose every time.”

The wolf clicked his tongue.  “Best get the hell outta dodge, pup. Don’t nobody want to have a hunter messin’ around with ‘em, no sir.”

“He ain’t gonna kill me, if he ain’t killed me yet.”

“And ain’t that a miracle for you.”

Jesse’s brows shot up; the wolf sounded sarcastic. “Ain’t it?”

“Naw,” the wolf’s voice dipped low, broke somewhere in the middle. His shoulders sprouted fur, his back popping as he shifted, slow and careful. “Naw, he’s jus’ bored, an’ he’s waitin’ for you to fuck up. So he’s got his excuse.”

“For killin’ me?”

“Uh huh. An’ makin’ it real nasty.”

“I’m a shifter,” Jesse said. He pulled his shirt off over his head (he liked this one too, no way he’d let it get torn up) and shook out his hair. “What other excuse does he need?”

“Don’t need no other _excuse_.”  The wolf’s voice was ragged now, more animal than human, words warped as lips become too thin and stretched to properly pronounce. “A good reason, maybe, or proof. Ain’t you ever thought about why you keep gettin’ spared?”

“You sayin’ it ain’t my charm and good looks?” Jesse drawled.

“Pup, you better hope not. The minute you stop amusin’ him, or the minute he finds somethin’ nicer, you’re dead.”

Red blossomed around an arrowhead in the wolf’s throat. Jesse caught the soft thwip of crossbow strings a hair too late. He shifted explosively as the older wolf went down, dove away and put distance between himself and the hunter.

Reyes dropped from the trees downwind and retrieved his arrow, shaking away blood and slimy flesh. He looked up at Jesse, who growled, hackles raised.

Reyes tilted his head. Jesse’s fight-or-flight instincts demanded _flight_ as he caught sight of Reyes’ perfect, white teeth. “Bored of _you?_ Never.”

Jesse’s gaze dropped to the wolf at Reyes’ feet; anger boiling, he growled softly, then let out a whimper.

“Whoops,” Reyes said easily, twirling the arrow in his fingers. Jesse snarled, ears flat against his head. The hunter stooped, picking up Jesse’s discarded shirt, holding it out at arm's length. Jesse snapped his teeth, _no way, not on your life,_ and Reyes’ laughter echoed in his ears as he turned tail and fled.

* * *

“You gonna kill me this time?” Jesse asked, weak.

Reyes’ heel dug into Jesse’s ribs. Jesse let out a short, strangled cry, claws catching in the thick layers of leather around Reyes’ ankles. The hunter folded his arms over his knees, revolver aimed between Jesse’s eyes. “Thought you’d keep being smart about this, mutt,” he said.

Jesse whined, squirming. “You kill every loner I come across.”

Reyes curled his lip. “All wanted,” he said, disdainful. “Turners.”

“That ain’t fair!” Jesse howled. He reached up to swipe at Reyes’ leg, froze when Reyes cocked the hammer. “It ain’t fair,” he repeated, whiny and small.

“You think any of those humans your little packmates turned wanted to be mutts like you?” Reyes snapped. He cocked his head towards the village behind him, the one he’d just stopped Jesse from raiding. “You think anyone there wants to turn?”

“I need a pack!” Jesse wailed. “I need a pack, you can’t keep forcin’ me to be alone! Why won’t you just put me outta my goddamn misery?!”

For a moment, silence, then, “You got one chance. The minute you turn someone, I’ll blow your goddamn head off.”

Jesse’s breath shuddered. Reyes’ boot bruised his ribs. “So that’s it, huh?” he rasped. “That’s your reason.”

Reyes’ eyes narrowed. Jesse wondered if it was possible for him to look kind.

“Just like the old man said,” Jesse mumbled. “You ain’t killed me because you think I’m some kinda innocent.”

Reyes lifted his boot. Jesse exhaled hard, startled when Reyes’ shotgun went off. The barrel was pointed skyward, but Jesse still swore he felt his bones rattle from the force.

“Cute.” Reyes scoffed. “Get out of my goddamn sight.”

Jesse transformed at the hunter’s feet, and shot into the woods with his tail swinging low.

* * *

Jesse moved on to Wyoming.

It was far enough, he reckoned. Too far for Reyes to want to track a single wolf, in any case. He stayed there for two years until he got sick of the harsh winters. Wyoming was fucking cold, and Jesse was very much not interested. Survival instincts be damned, he headed back towards New Mexico.

Likely, the Overseers had moved on. Jesse couldn’t imagine why they’d stay. After they’d wiped out Deadlock, they’d spent time ruining all the clans that tried to rise up in its place, and when Jesse had left there were hardly any clans left to speak of at all.

He was partially right, in the end.

All he owned was a small bag of clothes he kept strapped to his back, so he could carry it even if he had to shift suddenly. He traveled as far as he could during the day, the river out of sight but within earshot, and at night he would build a fire to sleep by and give off the impression that he was human.

The wind shifted just as he’d started gathering dry brush. Jesse felt his throat go dry and dropped his growing armload of twigs, retreating downwind for the time being.

He let himself curse once he deemed the distance to be enough. The sun was going down now, and he had no semblance of a fire to speak of, which meant he’d have to sleep in his fur, and _he_ was here.

What were the odds? What kind of luck did Jesse have, for Christ’s sake? He hadn’t even reached the New Mexico border yet. Jesse felt the hair on the back of his neck sticking up, Reyes’ scent still filling his nose underneath a thin layer of smoke.

Just his fucking luck.

Jesse stripped himself of his clothes, transformed, and tried to sleep. He ended up failing, unable to sit still, unable to relax with the knowledge that a hunter was nearby, that it was _that_ hunter in particular. That wasn’t fair, he thought. He wanted to go home, wanted to rest on familiar ground, and the only thing standing in his way was Reyes.

Again.

Well. Well, he thought, he’d had enough of this whole thing, of Reyes’ little game, of Reyes playing with his life. This time, he’d win. This time, either he’d take Reyes down or Reyes would have to kill him. No more playing, no more games.

Heart pumping with adrenaline, body full of energy thanks to his last kill, Jesse climbed to his feet and stretched out his limbs, shaking the dirt and leaves from his fur. He kept his pace slow as he walked for some time, jogged out of restlessness, stilled when he saw smoke from a campfire.

He could smell Reyes on the breeze, all leather and gunpowder and tobacco smoke, but that was almost overpowered by the scent of vampire blood.

He cursed his luck yet again; Reyes had just made a kill, and if he hadn’t come down from a murderous adrenaline high by now - which wasn’t likely - Jesse’s fight would be that much harder.

The element of surprise was all he had going for at the moment. He could only hope Reyes was asleep.

Padded feet and careful steps let him get close in silence, any other sounds he made swallowed up by the river. Yellow eyes scanned the bank: Reyes’ tent, pitched neatly in front of a fire, wet clothes hanging over a tree branch, boots abandoned by the roots, blood staining the ground and still faintly coloring those hanging clothes.

Jesse looked closer and spotted a skull underneath wood and - nope, that was an arm.

He fought back nausea. Vampires were no friends of werewolves, or of anybody for that matter, but he couldn’t say a beheaded corpse would ever be a lovely sight. It always baffled him that hunters killed wolves for their violence, and yet were capable of killing vampires, the process of which was ghastly at best.

His next observation had him inwardly cursing. Reyes was not, in fact, asleep, but bathing in the river, vigorously scrubbing dirt and blood from his skin. The stink of ancient blood in the camp made Jesse want to flee, and Reyes was likely planning on leaving at first light, before the coven had time to discover their missing family member and descend on him.

Jesse crouched nearby and waited, ears angled towards Reyes, lips curling into a snarl. He bit back a growl, nervous and antsy. He wouldn’t be able to take Reyes in the water, but at least Reyes was naked. If Jesse timed this right, he could strike before the hunter could get ahold of his weapons again.

Reyes disappeared underwater, and Jesse, heart hammering, crept closer while the water interfered with Reyes’ hearing. A moment later, the hunter broke the surface again, shaking water from his curls.

Jesse sank into a crouch, more slowly than he’d ever moved. Reyes paused.

Jesse held his breath.

Reyes narrowed his eyes, scanning the brush in Jesse’s direction. For a moment, Jesse swore those sharp eyes were drilling a hole into his forehead, but Reyes eventually looked away.

And he turned towards the bank.

Jesse lunged.

Reyes looked up at the last second, wide eyed, and moved in the same moment. Jesse’s teeth narrowly missed Reyes’ shoulder, and a moment later he felt something sharp slash into his front leg. He yelped and landed poorly, whine nearly interrupting his growl as he put pressure on it.

If he wasn’t fearing for his life, he might’ve laughed; Reyes looked awfully funny, crouched into a battle stance and ass naked.

Well, he’d lost the element of surprise, and he wouldn’t put it past Reyes to follow his blood trail for days on end until he’d caught him, so there was no turning back now. Do or die.  

He lunged again, cursing himself for having let Reyes get a chance to recover. Had he needed to recover? Would it have mattered? He snapped his teeth at Reyes’ legs as fast as he could, dismayed when the hunter managed to evade each attack. The cut on his leg was deep and crippled his speed, and -

And Reyes wasn’t attacking him.

Suspicious but unable to slow down enough to consider it, Jesse made another gamble. He leapt, managing to tackle Reyes to the ground without getting shanked. Reyes gritted his teeth and pressed his arms against Jesse’s throat, spittle splattering over his cheeks as Jesse snapped his teeth wildly. The hunter cried out with the effort of holding Jesse back and managed to get a knee underneath Jesse’s belly. Jesse’s hind claws cut into his legs as Reyes finally tossed him off. He was on his feet again in a flash, brandishing his gleaming knife.

 _Silver_ , Jesse thought, realizing why his wound burned so badly. He paused to catch his breath, waiting in vain for Reyes to attack. Still, the hunter only braced himself, arms crossed protectively in front of his body, knife poised over his left shoulder at the ready.

Jesse tried not to consider why Reyes hadn’t made a move for his gun. _Do or die_ , he thought, snarling as he leapt into the air, intent on hitting Reyes’ shoulders again.

Reyes ducked and slashed up; Jesse missed and felt pain flare over his chest.

He tumbled when he landed, the wound burning so badly that his vision swam the moment he tried to get up. He collapsed with a whimper, blood staining his fur.

Reyes loomed over him, features shrouded in shadow from the fire at his back.

“You’re ballsy as shit,” Reyes said admiringly.

Jesse growled weakly, breath ragged. Reyes reached out and Jesse snarled, though the sound slid into a whimper almost immediately. His body seized and shifted, bones popping and creaking.

“Fuck you,” Jesse wheezed, shivering. “Fuck you.”

Reyes stepped closer.

“Get away from me,” Jesse snapped. His own blood was hot against his skin, his world spinning.

“You’ll die like that,” Reyes pointed out.

“What do you care?”

Reyes paused. After a moment, he admitted, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Bet you have!” Jesse rasped, hands hovering over his wound to protect it from further damage.

“Not to kill you,” Reyes added. He paused again, then turned and flung his knife. The blade stuck fast in the ground on the other side of the fire. Jesse watched him in confusion, and when Reyes turned back, he said, “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“You want me alive and miserable,” Jesse accused, letting out a hiss of pain.

Reyes huffed and crouched. “That’s about half right,” he said.

Jesse suddenly realized they were both naked. “What, the miserable part?” he shot back.

“You really like to make shit difficult, don’t you?” Reyes grumbled. He reached out again, and when Jesse bared his teeth, he said,  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Little late to be makin’ that claim, ain’t it?” Jesse said, scowling.

Reyes shrugged. “You attacked me,” he said simply. “What do you suppose I should’ve done?”

“Kill me!” Jesse snapped. “Kill me, like you shoulda the first time you laid eyes on me! Do you understand what I’ve been through because of you? I wanna kill you or I wanna die, and since one of them things ain’t happenin’, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop patronizin’ me and get it over and done with!”

Reyes stared at him. After a moment, he rose and turned away. “I don’t like you enough to give you whatever the fuck you want,” he said, disappearing into his tent.

Jesse gritted his teeth and tried to get up again, cursing as the pain flared. Blood bubbled down his chest, the wound still feeling like it burned at the edges. _Silver_ , of course Reyes used silver knives.

Reyes emerged a moment later, clothed and carrying a small satchel. Jesse bared his teeth as the hunter neared, canines still sharp.  

“Hush,” Reyes scolded. “You’ll die like that.”

“Oh, like you’d help me.”

Reyes squatted, reaching into the satchel and pulling out a small box. “I will if you swear not to bite me,” he said. He opened the box and pulled out a needle and thread, and Jesse’s eyes went wide.

“Aw, no,” he said quickly, “You ain’t stickin’ me with that.”

“You wanna bleed out?”

“You’re tryin’ to torture me!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Reyes scoffed. He pinched the eye of the needle between his teeth and took out a bottle and cloth, pulling the cork out of the bottle and pouring clear liquid onto the cloth. “You’ll get infected,” he said, “if you don’t bleed out first.”

Jesse eyed him warily, arms still hovering crossed over his chest. “Why do you care?” he asked, suspicious.

“I told you,” Reyes said, “I’ve been looking for you. I’ll tell you why if you let me stitch you up.”

Jesse hesitated, sized the hunter up, considered his options and eventually lowered his arms. “Don’t try nothin’ funny,” he warned. “Or I’ll bite you.”

“Don’t bite me and I won’t try anything funny,” Reyes returned, moving closer.

The liquid in the bottle smelled strongly, and Jesse wrinkled his nose. “What the hell is that?”

“Disinfectant,” Reyes answered. He paused, holding the cloth just above Jesse’s wound. “This will sting,” he warned.

“Quit actin’ like you give a damn about my general discomfort,” Jesse spat.

Reyes shrugged and pressed the cloth down. Jesse howled.

The rest of the process went similarly; Jesse gritted his teeth and whined as Reyes sewed him up, fingers leaving angry, shallow trails in the dirt. The wound on his arm was just as bad, and he snapped his teeth at Reyes whenever it became too much. By time the hunter finished, Jesse felt as though he might pass out.

“Where are your clothes?” Reyes asked.

Jesse didn’t answer.

* * *

Reyes shook him awake a bit before dawn.

Jesse stirred, warm and comfortable and buried underneath a thick blanket. He could smell leather and gunpowder and tobacco smoke faintly, underneath something more natural.

“Get up, unless you want to be a bloodless sack of meat by nightfall.”

Jesse peeked an eye open, watching Reyes pack up through his lashes. The first rays of sunlight hadn’t broken over the horizon yet, and the fire had already been put out.

“Go find your things,” Reyes said sharply. “We need to get moving.”

Jesse shifted and sat up, wincing as he did so. His chest still ached, although the burning had stopped. He was clean of blood and dirt too, wounds already swelling a puffy red as they closed.

Reyes glanced at him over his shoulder. “You heal fast,” he remarked.

“Perks of bein’ half dog, I s’pose,” Jesse replied, voice hoarse, lips dry. He ignored the implication that Reyes hadn’t ever seen a werewolf heal because every other one he’d fought hadn’t come out alive.

Reyes tossed him a canteen. Jesse drank the water down greedily.

“I could’ve poisoned you,” Reyes said idly, folding up his extra clothes.

“After you went and made a big fuss about stitchin’ me up?”  Jesse scoffed, wiping his mouth with his good arm. “Nice try, asshole.”

“That’s a pretty ungrateful way of talking to someone who saved your life.”

“You’re the one that stabbed me in the first place.”

“I didn’t stab you,” Reyes said simply. “I cut you.”

“Well, ‘scuse me,” Jesse grumbled.

“You tried to kill me,” Reyes reminded him. “Now go find your shit. And make it fast, unless you want to take on a coven.”

“Coven wouldn’t be after you if you didn’t kill everythin’ that moved.”

“I didn’t kill _you_ ,” Reyes said.

Jesse scowled. He tried to shift, felt his muscles swell -

“You’ll tear out your stitches,” Reyes said. “You’ll have to go get your shit on human feet, mutt.”

“I ain’t walking around the woods naked to get poison ivy on my dick like a damn fool,” Jesse said incredulously.

Reyes snorted. “Wear my clothes for now,” he said, motioning to a pile left beside the sleeping bag. He crawled out of the tent, taking the bag he’d been packing. “Hurry up. I need to get this tent down.”

Jesse scowled again and cursed colorfully under his breath. Mindful of his wounds, he wiggled into Reyes’ clothes, unhappy about it.

“You got a tiny middle for a fella your size,” he grumbled, crawling out of the tent. “Can’t even button these damned clothes.”

“Then hurry up and go get your own,” Reyes said, though perhaps there was a hint of a grin on his face.

Jesse huffed and let himself shift just enough to have a bit of padding on his feet. The walk to his tiny campsite seemed longer on two legs, and when he returned, Reyes was ready to move.

“Take your tiny ass clothes,” Jesse said, tossing them back. “And start talkin’.”

Reyes stuffed his clothes into his pack and hoisted it over his shoulder. “First,” he said, “let’s get out of here.”

Jesse glanced at the gun in Reyes’s hand. Reyes started walking.

* * *

As it turned out, ‘get out of here’ meant ‘walk until dark with little talking’.

Small noises of movement in the surrounding brush kept catching Jesse’s attention, and Reyes seemed on edge in turn.  

“Ain’t the coven,” Jesse finally said.

Reyes glanced back at him.

“Vampires smell kinda like rot and musty attics,” Jesse added.

Reyes seemed to consider this, then gave a curt nod and kept walking. “We’ll camp over this hill, by the river.”  he said, glancing towards the sunset.

“You finally gonna start talkin’ then?” Jesse asked, irritable and tired. A full day of trying to outpace a coven of vampires had meant no time for hunting, and a belly rumbling with hunger meant a cranky wolf.

Reyes planted his feet in the dirt and slid down the steep slant to the riverbank. “After you gather firewood,” he said, setting his pack down where the ground was dry. “I’ll set up.”

Jesse eyed the hunter’s gun again. Reyes tucked it into its holster, paying him no mind. Jesse grumbled and stalked off for kindling and wood.

By the time he returned, Reyes had already set up his tent and had gathered stones in a circle for the fire. Jesse watched impatiently as he made a teepee of sticks and dry brush and lit it, taking his time with the task.

Jesse snapped, “Are you gonna -”

Reyes held up his hand, then motioned for Jesse to sit. Fuming slightly, Jesse sat down near the fire and waited, jaw taut.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Reyes started. “For a little over a  year and a half now.” He paused, had the grace to look embarrassed, then said, “I thought I might be able to convince you to work with me.”

Jesse jumped to his feet with a snarl. Reyes reached for his revolver, though he didn’t draw it.

“You think I’d help you do a goddamn thing?” he demanded. “You...! You son of a bitch, I swear to God if you didn’t have a goddamn gun -”

“You were right,” Reyes interrupted.

Jesse paused, hating the way that intrigued him, the way Reyes’ sincere expression made him hesitate.

“You were right,” Reyes repeated, softer, “about needing a pack. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d survive without one.” Here, he smiled. “Though I guess I was right, in any case.”

“You’re treadin’ thin ice,” Jesse warned, curious. “What are you gettin’ at?”

Reyes’ eyes flitted over Jesse’s face. Jesse felt like he was being unraveled, slow and  careful like, and he didn’t like it one bit. “There are a few creatures I can’t hunt,” Reyes said after a while. “Because I’m human. Things with lures, magic -”

“And?”

“And you can,” Reyes finished. “You have better senses, much as I hate to admit it. Trails that go cold for me won’t for you.” He tapped his nose. “That vampire bit? Couldn’t have told you that. Not till one got too close for my liking.”

“You want a guard dog,” Jesse realized out loud.

“A companion,” Reyes corrected.

“What happened to your hunting party?” Jesse sneered.

Reyes made a strange, guarded expression. “Moved on to Oklahoma after we beat back the larger packs.”

 _I knew it,_ Jesse thought. “So what are you still doin’ here?”

“Solo hunting,”  Reyes said simply. “In any case...you said you needed a pack.” He motioned to himself. “Here I am.”

Jesse bared sharp teeth, beard looking a bit thicker than it ought to, eyes bright yellow. “You ain’t no pack of mine,” he bit out. “You self-servin’ son of a bitch.”

Reyes shrugged. “I don’t care if you say no,” he said. “But if you do, nothing’s going to change between us.”

The threat was clear; Jesse growled, dismayed. A life of loneliness or a life as a hunter’s dog...neither were particularly appealing.

“I’d never ask you to kill your kind,” Reyes added.

Now there was an idea. Jesse quelled his anger for the moment, mulling it over. “I don’t wanna see _you_ kill my kind,” Jesse returned firmly. “I see you point a gun at a wolf, I’ll help ‘em take you down.”

Reyes sputtered. “I can’t just ignore -”

“Unless you see ‘em with somebody’s throat in their teeth,” Jesse said sharply, “I better not see you doin’ jack shit to another wolf.”

Reyes frowned deeply, plainly not favoring the idea. He scratched at his cheek, where Jesse had cut deep years ago, then sighed and said, “Fine. No werewolves.”

Jesse hesitated, distrustful, waiting for the catch. When none came, he said softly, “’Fore I agree, just...tell me one thing. Why’d you spare me, at the massacre?”

Reyes looked at him, all honest and rehearsed, like he’d expected the question and had already carefully considered his answer. “Because you were scared,” he said.

Jesse scowled. “If you’re gonna give me shit excuses, I’m leaving.”

“You can call it a shit excuse if you like,” Reyes said, spiteful, “but that’s all I’ve got.” He exhaled and softened again, dropping his gaze. “Most wolves coming at me have murder in their eyes. Even for as well as you fought, you just looked like you were trying to survive.” He looked up again, almost vulnerable for once. “My guild ordered me to kill you,” he admitted. “After I let you go the first time.”

Jesse just stared, absorbing it all, world yanked out from under him as he processed what that meant. After a moment, he sat back down, and offered Reyes his hand.

Reyes met his eyes and shook it. “My name is Gabriel,” he said.

Jesse thought that sounded like something out of the Bible.

* * *

Their first few days as a team were awkward. Reyes offered to let Jesse sleep in his tent, which Jesse adamantly refused. The first night was spent laying on his back on the hard ground, and damn if he didn’t hurt in the morning. By the time nightfall rolled around on the second day, his wounds were scarring over, and he transformed and slept by the fire.

Reyes had watched him strip, watched as his bones popped and fur sprouted over his skin, as if he expected Jesse to come at him with claws and fangs.

Jesse caved when it rained. Reyes seemed smug about this, and Jesse marveled that the hunter slept with him so close. The tent was just barely big enough for two, and the body heat at his back woke Jesse up every time Reyes moved in his sleep.

They didn’t speak much. The daytime was spent on the move, hunting for food in-between hunting prey, and the evenings were spent setting up camp and sleeping. Before dawn each morning, they packed up and got moving again, and for a week it was rinse and repeat.

Jesse was rather bored with the whole thing. He’d assumed that a hunter’s life would be more eventful than this.

As evening approached, he found himself searching the trees for any sort of movement, something that might mean dinner or a fight to ease the restlessness that came from being in Reyes’ presence. Reyes sent him to gather firewood, and that was when Jesse spotted lights in the distance, soft and warm like flames from a lantern.

Intrigued, he walked a ways closer, wondering what a group so large would be doing this deep in the woods.

A forceful hand on his arm startled him. Jesse whirled, teeth bared, only to find Reyes, who looked both stern and breathless.

“Those are will o’ wisps,” he said. “Don’t follow them.”

Jesse blinked. “They’re what?”

“Little spirits that imitate lanterns,” Reyes answered. “They lure you off your path, and once you’re lost in the woods, faeries will snatch you.”

Jesse stared at him a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “Were you following me?”

“You didn’t come back for forty-five minutes,” Reyes said.

Jesse wondered if that meant he’d been worried.

* * *

Action came briefly in the middle of the night a few days later; Jesse was woken by a piercing scream.

Reyes bolted upright, crawling out of the tent with his gun already in hand. The scream rapidly grew louder until Jesse’s ears hurt, and it was all he could do to curl into a ball and cover his ears. He heard Reyes shout in pain, a gunshot right after, and the scream cut off abruptly.

Head pounding, Jesse poked his head out of the tent. A body lay in the leaves, and Reyes, standing in nothing but his underwear, nudged it with his foot.  

“Banshee,” the hunter called, voice sounding half muffled through the ringing in Jesse’s ears. “You alright?” he asked, approaching the tent.

“Head’s aching somethin’ fierce,” Jesse muttered. “Don’t them things usually mean somebody’s gonna die?”

Reyes clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Myth,” he said dismissively. “Banshee’s kill by stunning prey before they attack. Killing it quick is the trick.” He frowned, studying Jesse’s face in the firelight. “You sure you’re alright?”

Jesse disliked the way Reyes kept showing concern. He disliked how used to the hunter’s scent he was getting. He disliked how small the fucking tent was and how it seemed too big when Reyes wasn’t in it.  

“I’m fine,” he answered, and he disliked how true that was, considering it meant he wasn’t lonely.

The banshee seemed to be the catalyst for the action Jesse had been craving. After Reyes killed it, they caught and killed a changeling and a demon, and after that, another vampire. Jesse found that its blood tasted old and foul, like it had spoiled. Reyes commented that it was the easiest takedown he’d had in a long time.

“You didn’t _do_ anything,” Jesse complained, after Reyes had scrubbed the blood from his muzzle.

“Only because you killed it so quickly,” Reyes said with a hint of pride. “Can’t say I’m fond of playing bait, but...”

Jesse scowled, partly because he hadn’t liked it either and partly because the kill meant more fast travel again.

“I’ll get you more clothes,” Reyes said, apologetic.

Jesse growled softly. “I’m on my last pair of pants,” he said irritably. Reyes laughed, and Jesse found he liked the sound.

* * *

True to his word, Reyes led them to a small town soon after. Jesse felt odd among humans again, wondering if anyone would look at his yellow eyes too closely, if he was perhaps hairier than the average man, or if his teeth might be showing.

“Relax,” Reyes chided. “Most people don’t look for anything they don’t want to see. Besides, no one’s going to notice if you stick close to me.”

Jesse eyed Reyes’ clothes, which plainly gave away his occupation. People seemed to look at him curiously and away quickly, as if intimidated or perhaps fearful. Hoping Reyes’ commandeering presence would mean fewer people glancing his way, Jesse shuffled closer, their shoulders brushing lightly.

Reyes looked pleased.

After an irritating shopping trip made worse by bickering, Reyes got them rooms at an inn. Jesse fidgeted in his bed, expecting to roll over and collide with a body only to find a wide expanse of mattress.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered after the third time roused him from sleep.

He didn’t like the idea of Reyes as a pack mate. He still bristled with anger when he considered how many of his past companions Reyes had killed, gritted his teeth in humiliation when he recalled all the times Reyes had toyed with him.

 _My guild ordered me to kill you, after I let you go the first time._ Fuck, Jesse hated what that meant. He remembered the old wolf telling him how fucked he was if Reyes liked him and realized belatedly how true it was, though not for the reason the wolf had predicted.

A wolf and a hunter, an unlikely pack of two.

Jesse _was_ fucked, if only for the fact that he was starting to like it. He liked the thrill of hunting and sometimes of being hunted. He liked sleeping in close quarters with another living being. He liked Reyes’ laugh, liked the wild look in his eyes after a kill, liked the pearly white smile that had terrified him once upon a time.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered again, hating how the sheets smelled freshly laundered instead of like leather and gunpowder and tobacco smoke.

* * *

As much as Jesse hated the inn, he hated border territory more.

Reyes was, apparently, a professional gossip, and had learned of a town on the cusp of Arizona and New Mexico plagued by a small coven of vampires. Jesse had wrinkled his nose in distaste at the news; vampires were both his least favorite targets and the most common.

Reyes had seemed excited about the idea, and the way his face lit up as he explained the mission was annoyingly endearing. “I haven’t fought an entire coven in a little over a year and a half,” he’d admitted. “It’s suicide without a guild.” He’d all but beamed then, adding, “But now I have a werewolf. Against a coven this size, you and I make a guild all our own.”

Jesse had frowned at that, a mix of dismayed and delighted at the idea that this was as much of a guild to Reyes as it was a pack to him. “Why ain’t you with ‘em?” he’d asked, suspicious.

Reyes smile had slipped then. “The Overseers?”

Jesse had nodded. “You said they were down in Oklahoma. Why ain’t you with ‘em?”

Reyes had hesitated, then said, “Just needed a change of pace.”

Jesse still thought he was lying.

They’d taken a train for the majority of the trip and were now traveling on foot to cross the border. Reyes seemed chipper, quiet except for the soft tune he was quietly humming to himself. Jesse remained bored until a shift in the wind gave him a good reason to be on edge. “Reyes,” he said, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

“Hm?”

“We need to change course,” Jesse said sharply.

Reyes stopped and looked back at him. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a pack upwind of us.” Jesse tilted his nose into the air, heart quickening. “A big one.”

Reyes cursed. “This far south should be clear,” he said, alarm creeping into his voice.

“They’re probably migratin’,” Jesse said. “Now that Deadlock’s gone and that guild of yours ain’t here.”

“Shit,” Reyes spat.

“They might have our scents already,” Jesse warned, changing direction. “We were upwind a minute ago. We gotta get outta here right now.”

“Shit,” Reyes said again, following after him. Jesse quietly marveled at that, that Reyes just believed him, when for all the hunter knew, Jesse could be leading him right to the wolf pack. And there was another thing he marveled at: the fact that it hadn’t occurred to him to do so.

There was a pack upwind, a large one; Jesse could’ve kept walking, could’ve forked Reyes over in exchange for a membership. It would’ve been wildly successful too. Any alpha would die for the chance to tear apart an Overseer. Jesse could have a pack again, could be a celebrated member if he wanted to be.

But he didn’t, and that meant he had to finally admit that he liked having Reyes around, and that the idea of being in a large pack again terrified him.

Another thing that terrified him was how strong that scent was, and the distant crunch of leaves under boots and paws.

“We need to run,” Jesse breathed.

And it was just as he said this that he faintly heard a growl and the rapid patter of padded feet. Reyes shrugged off his pack and took off, faster on human legs than Jesse was, though he slowed when he got too far ahead.

 _Stupid_ , Jesse thought, and the pack circled them within a minute.

“Stay close,” Jesse hissed quietly, grabbing Reyes’ arm. Reyes moved closer, hand hovering over the revolver at his hip.

Wolves circled, growling low, lips pulled back over their teeth as they eyed Reyes like a meal and Jesse with curiosity. Werewolves still clothed and on two feet trickled through the trees; Jesse counted fifteen before the crowd parted to make way for a tall, cocksure alpha.

“Well,” he said. “Look what we got here, boys. A hunter!”

Laughter went around the circle, accompanied by humored huffs of those transformed. Jesse growled, and the alpha added, “And a guard dog. How bad’s he got you whipped, pup?”

“Ain’t whipped,” Jesse returned, voice surprisingly smooth.

“Sure,” the alpha said dismissively. “You ain’t got an alpha, though.”

“Mine’s killed,” Jesse said, cautious. Reyes stiffened. “I like bein’ on my own.”

The alpha snickered. “Kinda young, ain’t you?” he said, and Jesse bristled. “But you know, pup,” the alpha went on, eyes drifting to Reyes, “If you wanna get that hunter out of your hair, we’re happy to oblige.”

More laughter went around the group. The muscle of Reyes’ arm coiled tight under Jesse’s fingers. Jesse said, “I’m peachy as I am, thank you kindly.”

The laughter ceased. Reyes looked at Jesse in wonder. The alpha said, “You misunderstood me, pup.”

“Name’s McCree, if you’re gonna run your mouth at me,” Jesse said. “And I understood you fine.”

The alpha paused. “McCree,” he repeated. “You’re one of Deadlock’s pups, ain’tcha?”

“Not anymore,” Jesse reminded. “Neither a pup or Deadlock’s.”

“Surprised you survived the massacre,” the alpha said loosely. “Only a couple did.” He sneered. “The ones that ran away like cowards.”

Jesse’s eyes flashed, and he bared his teeth. Reyes made a faint noise as Jesse squeezed his arm too tight, and suddenly every wolf’s eyes were on him, as if just remembering he was there.

“I’ll quit beatin’ around the bush,” the alpha said finally. “This territory’s mine now. And I don’t take too kindly to hunters on my land.”

“Fine with us since we’re just passin’ through,” Jesse replied.

The alpha snorted and cocked his head in Reyes’ direction. Two wolves stalked forward. Reyes took a step back, hand hovering over his gun again, eyes scanning the pack for an opening to slip through.

Jesse stepped forward and snarled; the wolves paused, ears flat.

“He’s mine,” he growled. “We’re leavin’.”

The alpha clicked his tongue. “Pup - oh, ‘scuse me, _McCree -_ you must think I’m damn blind.” He stabbed a finger in Reyes’ direction. “Think I don’t see that Overseers emblem on his coat?”

Jesse almost swore.

“You got another thing comin’ if you think I’m passin’ him up,” the alpha said.

The wolves stepped forward again. Jesse snapped, “Fight me for him, then.”

“Are you crazy?” Reyes hissed, just as the alpha said “Oh?” in interest.

“You heard me,” Jesse said, letting go of Reyes’ arm and shrugging the hunter’s hand away when Reyes grabbed his sleeve.

The alpha stepped forward, and Jesse matched him. “You’d die for a hunter?” the alpha asked curiously.

“I ain’t plannin’ on dyin’,” Jesse returned as they circled each other. “You sayin’ you wouldn’t die for your pack?”

The alpha scoffed. “You let a witch get a charm on you? A hunter ain’t a pack.”

“He’s mine,” Jesse said again, low in his throat, eyes wild, and the sharp sound of tearing clothes pierced the air.

Jesse exploded into his wolf form, shifting a hair faster and snapping his teeth at the alpha’s throat. The alpha leapt back and launched forward right after, their paws colliding and teeth snapping as they scrambled for purchase.

Shouts and sharp, alarmed barks nearly drowned out fierce snarls. Jesse heard Reyes shout for him and ignored it. The alpha slipped past Jesse’s paws and briefly managed to sink teeth into his neck. Jesse yelped sharply, body twisting and claws scraping against the alpha’s belly until his grip loosened enough for Jesse to spring free. They backed away from each other and circled, panting, teeth bared and bloodied, then leapt into action again.

Where the alpha had height, Jesse had bulk. The alpha was older, but what experience he leveraged, Jesse made up for in talent. The fight went from stand stills to blurs of brown and black and back again, and each time they came away bloodier than before. Jesse rushed forward, slamming his shoulder into the alpha’s chest and sending the wolf toppling before he dove and bit into the alpha’s hind leg, only retreating with a yelp of pain as claws left a gash over his left eye.

The alpha stood up, whimpering when he put pressure on his leg. Jesse shook his head as if that would alleviate the pain from the cut, blood coloring his fur. The pack stopped cheering, almost audibly holding their breaths. The alpha bounced forward once, twice, and Jesse snarled, ears forward and tail out.

The alpha put weight on his foot again and whined, ears flicking back. He glanced towards Reyes, as if considering his value. Jesse snapped forward, opportunistic, rage flaring in his chest, and closed his teeth around the alphas throat. The alpha let out a high pitched cry, paws batting at Jesse’s legs, body twisting and writhing. Jesse held fast, tasting dirt and fur and blood, jaw aching with the effort of keeping his grip. The coppery smell of blood filled his nose and grew more potent on his tongue, and he could feel the pulse of the alpha’s heartbeat against his teeth.

The more the alpha struggled, the less he could breathe, and with each passing second he bled a little more. Jesse felt his legs begin to bruise and sting as the alpha kicked out, weaker each time. Each desperate shake of his head was smaller than the last, until every movement was little more than a twitch.

Jesse kept his jaw locked tight long after the last jerk of the alpha’s paws, until the blood in his mouth had slowed to a faint trickle. He let go slowly, wary, exhausted, a vibrant red smeared over his muzzle.

Reyes exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. The pack stared at Jesse, at the corpse, with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Jesse shifted with a ripple of fur and skin, bones popping slow, wincing all the while. He sat on his knees, head low, chest heaving, cuts crisscrossing over his skin.

“Which one of you is next in command?” he rasped, voice still a low rumble.

There was an almost audible pause, then one of the human werewolves stepped up.

“Take your shit pack and leave,” Jesse muttered.

The wolf stammered. “But -”

“I don’t want you!” Jesse snapped, looking up sharply just to bear his bloody teeth. “I ain’t tryin’ to lead you! Y’all pushed me to this! Now get out of my goddamn sight!”

The wolf lurched back, fearful. Murmurs went around the circle, and after a moment, a few of the wolves turned tail and bounded away. The newly appointed alpha motioned to another and approached Jesse slowly. Jesse growled low in his throat, but they only picked up the corpse and hefted it over their shoulders before disappearing into the woods after the rest.

Reyes was at Jesse’s side in an instant, thumb brushing over the skin beneath the gash over his eye. Jesse winced on instinct and leaned away.

“Jesus,” Reyes breathed, brows knitted.

Jesse dropped his gaze and tried to focus on regaining his breath instead of the way Reyes was looking at him.  

Reyes lowered his hand. “You...” he started, then swallowed and tried again. “You saved my life.”

Jesse exhaled hard through his nose. The metallic taste of copper still sat heavy on his tongue.

“You killed another wolf for me,” Reyes said, more insistently, like he was waiting for Jesse to convey the depth of it and confirm the meaning.

Jesse glanced at the holster at Reyes’ hip. The gun was still tucked safely inside, never once drawn, just like he’d promised.

“Got any more disinfectant?” he asked.

Reyes stared at him, then jumped up and ran to get his abandoned pack. He gave Jesse one of their canteens to drink from and used another to clean his wounds. He hesitated as he wiped the blood from Jesse’s mouth, then leaned in close. Jesse looked away. Gabriel retreated.  

The gash over Jesse’s eye left a jagged scar.

* * *

They hiked to the nearest town to restock on supplies, journey slow going with Jesse’s injuries and silent with uncertainty. Neither of them seemed able to look the other in the eye.

Gabriel bought Jesse new clothes to replace the ones he’d torn and more, simply because he could. Jesse admitted that he hated hotels and their spacious beds. Gabriel’s cheeks flushed faintly. They ended up setting up the tent a mile away from the edge of town, close enough to walk to breakfast and far enough to mute the sound of civilization.

Gabriel peeled back Jesse’s bandages. “Gone,” he said quietly, marveling, though he still didn’t meet Jesse’s eyes.

Jesse murmured, “Gabriel.”

Gabriel looked startled.

Jesse suddenly realized he didn’t know what to say. “We should sleep,” he said lamely after a moment, “If we want to reach the coven in two days.”

“Alright,” Gabriel said softly, disappointed and exhausted all at once.

Jesse watched the hunter out of the corner of his eye as they stripped down to their underclothes, considering the warm glow the fire cast over his skin. He’d turned away before, when there’d been blood on his tongue, but now he considered the shape of Gabriel’s mouth and the texture of his beard.

Sleep was a mercy; against Gabriel’s back, warm and wrapped in blankets, Jesse was out in minutes even with the heavy thoughts weighing on his mind. He dreamt of the alpha’s cocky, awful grin, and of Gabriel’s fond one, of his own teeth stained red.

Gabriel rising in the middle of the night roused him. “I heard something,” Gabriel whispered, soothing. “Stay here.”

“I can help,” Jesse insisted, sitting up halfway.

“It’s probably just a deer,” Gabriel reassured. Jesse frowned. Gabriel slipped out of the tent, cocking his gun.

Jesse settled back down into the blankets. With the smell of leather and gunpowder and tobacco smoke filling his nose, and already half asleep again, he didn’t catch the scent of an approaching predator.

A growl, a gunshot, and Gabriel’s sudden scream of pain had him bolting upright, and he burst out of the tent, already sprouting fur.

A wolf’s ragged shape was dimly outlined by the dwindling fire, skinny and starved and lonesome, staggering with a misplaced bullet wound and whimpering in fear as Jesse barreled towards it. Up close, as Jesse toppled it with ease, he saw wild, confused eyes and caught a familiar scent. Already wounded and long starved, the wolf went down in under a minute.

“Gabriel,” Jesse rumbled, already half human as he whirled, fresh blood on his mouth. Gabriel lay curled up on the ground, and Jesse swore his heart stopped beating until Gabriel groaned and shifted towards his voice.

Jesse was at his side in an instant, prying Gabriel’s fingers away from the wound on his arm. “Shit,” he breathed. The marks were shallow - Gabriel had shot the wolf before it had gotten a proper grip - but the wolf had drawn blood, and that was enough. “Shit,” Jesse said again.

“It burns,” Gabriel whispered, already feverish.

Jesse touched his forehead and cursed. “Gabriel,” Jesse said softly. “Gabriel, I’m so sorry.”

“You have to kill me,” Gabriel rasped. “Before I change. M-my revolver -”

“Hush with that,” Jesse said sharply. He started to pick Gabriel up and found himself shaky, then hooked his hands under Gabriel’s arms instead and dragged him closer to the fire. “Hey,” he said, motioning to Gabriel’s underwear. “You like this pair? You’ll rip ‘em.”

“Jesse,” Gabriel pleaded.

“It ain’t that bad,” Jesse promised gently. “It’ll hurt somethin’ fierce first time you change, but it ain’t that bad.”

“I can’t -” Gabriel shuddered hard, fingers digging into Jesse’s arms. “Please, I can’t -”

“Sure you can,” Jesse said. He paused, then crawled into the tent and returned with two blankets. He sat down and laid it across his lap, then pulled Gabriel in between his legs. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I ain’t putting clothes on ‘till you’re done. You’re gonna get real mad at me soon, I reckon.”

“Kill me,” Gabriel begged. “Kill me.” He let out a weak noise, fingers tight around his arm until his knuckles turned white.

“Can’t make me,” Jesse soothed. He smoothed Gabriel’s curls away from his forehead, slick with sweat. “Take it easy, now.”

“This is against everything I am,” Gabriel croaked. “Please...”

Jesse swiped tears from his cheeks. “So’s runnin’ with me, ain’t it?” he asked. He paused, then added, “I coulda said the same thing a while ago, couldn’t I?”

Gabriel’s breath hitched, too quiet to be a sob. He didn’t ask again.

The transformation took over an hour and a half. Jesse rubbed light hands over Gabriel’s shoulders while he shook and convulsed, chest aching with each of Gabriel’s cries.

“Easy,” he murmured, sliding out from underneath Gabriel’s body, watching as dark fur spread over his skin. He transformed to the sound of Gabriel’s bones popping and shifting, shaking out his coat as Gabriel staggered to his feet.

Gabriel looked up at him with yellow eyes, blinking slow and unfocused. His lips curled up over sharp teeth, growl rumbling from his chest.

Jesse huffed at him. Gabriel blinked again, then bared his teeth and stumbled forward in a slow, messy attack. Jesse ran at him in turn, faster, and after easily sliding past Gabriel’s open jaws, clamped his teeth on the scruff of Gabriel’s neck and tossed him to the ground.

Gabriel yelped in surprise and clumsily climbed to his feet, unhurt. Jesse’s heart ached, watching him move in a new body when he was so graceful and quick before.

Gabriel lurched forward again, though he stopped when Jesse growled a warning with his ears forward. Gabriel’s ears flicked back, hesitant, a frustrated snarl rumbling in his chest. Opportunistic, Jesse rushed him, knocking him to the ground and growling close to his ear. Gabriel squirmed and snarled until Jesse growled again, loud and forceful, and Gabriel caved and whimpered softly, then nipped at Jesse’s chin.

Jesse licked the scars on Gabriel’s cheek.

After Jesse let him up, Gabriel paced, gait uneven as he tripped over his own paws, ears low and tail tucked between his legs. Jesse growled softly whenever Gabriel looked his way with wild eyes, until Gabriel blinked in recognition and began pacing again.

Minutes before the sun peeked through the trees, Gabriel collapsed and shifted. Jesse gathered him in blankets and carried him into the tent.

* * *

“I knew the wolf,” Jesse said quietly, after Gabriel’s breathing gave away that he was awake.

Gabriel didn’t give any indication that he’d heard.

“One of the runaways,” Jesse went on. “He took off after your guild started killin’ us. Reckon he was followin’ that pack we ran into.”

Still silence.

“Wolves go mad, sometimes,” Jesse added. “When packs won’t take ‘em. Nobody wants a deserter ‘cept other deserters. Mighty hard to find, sometimes.”

Gabriel inhaled and exhaled slowly. “You should’ve killed me,” he murmured.

Jesse paused. “Didn’t wanna,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t, when I asked.”

“I don’t want to be like this,” Gabriel whispered.

“Nobody does,” Jesse reminded him. “You get used to it.”

Gabriel turned over to face him. Jesse’s fingers brushed against Gabriel’s hand before Jesse gingerly took hold of his arm. The wound was gone, light scars the only evidence that it was ever there.

“S’posed to be that your alpha’s the wolf that turned you,” Jesse said quietly, worrying his bottom lip. “But I killed him, so...guess that’s me, now.”

Gabriel’s brows furrowed. “I...last night, I bowed to you.”

“Kinda,”  Jesse admitted. He tapped his chin. “Nibblin’ here means concedin’.” He hesitated, then said, “I don’t want none of that. We ain’t gotta have a hierarchy. We can keep on like we’ve been.”

Gabriel lowered his gaze, yellow eyes standing out against dark lashes. “Is that possible?” he asked.

“Sure,” Jesse said. “Sure it is.” He brushed his thumb across Gabriel’s bottom lip. “Mostly. Sure.”

“Mostly,” Gabriel murmured quietly.

“Mostly,” Jesse repeated, soft. Gabriel pressed closer, breath ghosting over Jesse’s mouth.

Jesse kissed him.

* * *

“You’ll be fine,” Jesse reassured.

Gabriel shifted his weight uncomfortably, too warm in his leather coat even in the cool night air. The noise from the bar seemed loud, even from outside, the smell of alcohol strong in their noses.

Gabriel scratched at his beard, thicker than he usually kept it, and ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’m not sure about this,” he admitted.

“They ain’t gonna look at you any more than usual,” Jesse said. He grinned, revealing sharp canines. “If anybody notices, you could always tell ‘em you got cursed by a witch.”

Gabriel put his hands over Jesse’s mouth. “You’re going to get us caught,” he hissed.

Jesse laughed and brushed Gabriel’s hands away. “Naw,” he said, teasing, “Human’s don’t like lookin’ at anything they don’t wanna see, remember?”

Gabriel frowned, brows knitting.

Jesse laced their fingers together. “They’ll be lookin’ at your clothes more than your eyes,” he promised. “And we can always run if we gotta.”

Gabriel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jesse tugged him into the bar.

A few patrons looked up as they entered, and Gabriel froze. Jesse tugged at his arm, whispered “Don’t stare,” and sat down at the counter.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Gabriel said softly, taking a seat beside him and leaning in close.

Jesse squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” he promised.

The bartender approached to take their order, blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and a small pentacle charm hanging from a chain around her neck. She opened her mouth and paused, meeting their eyes, then said in a thick accent, “Well. We don’t get many gentlemen like you around here.”

Jesse and Gabriel glanced at her charm, then grinned at each other, flashing their teeth.

“We heard there’s been some excitement around here,” Jesse said loosely, “So we figured we’d stop by.”

“Is that what you heard?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Mmhmm,” Jesse said. “Maybe you could point us in the right direction?”

“Depends on what you’re looking for,” she answered lightly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Jesse glanced at Gabriel, amused. Gabriel winked at him, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “What do you know about vampire covens?” he asked.

The bartender leaned on the counter too, eyes mischievous. “What do you want to know?”


End file.
